


perception, imagination, or the comprehension of discourse

by entanglement



Category: Mr. Robot (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 15:23:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8896687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/entanglement/pseuds/entanglement
Summary: how to fall in love without existing





	

"Do you love him?"

Mr. Robot snaps from the depths of his thoughts and glances to his right where Elliot is sitting. They're alone in the arcade again, sitting side by side in two of the skeeball lanes under the illumination of their scoreboards, but there are spots where the neon is burnt out and that part of the room is bathed in darkness. It crawls forward as more of the lights flicker and distort like compression artifacts and then expire. It feels like it's closing in on them. Elliot's eyes move to watch the room too.

"Do you love him?" he asks again. 

This time, there's a pleading tone to his voice that seems to ask for this one last answer before the lights all die and the dark engulfs them. There's no telling whether it's death coming or just the collapse of Mr. Robot's last attempt to keep Elliot from the pain. Either way, the terror of both possibilities sends a shiver through Elliot strong enough for Mr. Robot to feel too.

"Don't ask questions you don't want the answers to, kiddo," Mr. Robot says.

"I saw how he looked at me. I think he loves you," Elliot says.

Mr. Robot sighs. 

"It's possible," he says.

Elliot's hands are stained red and the front of his hoodie is wet and sticking to his stomach, but he doesn't look scared. Mr. Robot's thoughts are bleeding into his like Elliot's had always bled into his and the transparency between them scares Mr. Robot more than anything that could be happening outside of this. Elliot goes silent again as he parses the new information and starts to pick at the clots of blood drying underneath his fingernails. A few more long minutes pass. More lights flicker and die.

"Have you two.. done anything?" Elliot asks.

"He kissed me," Mr. Robot says.

"And?"

"I kissed him. We kissed a few times. It just kept happening."

Elliot swallows hard and tears gather at the corners of his eyes. 

"Anything else?" he asks.

"We slept together once," Mr. Robot says.

He can remember it clearly. 

_Resting his head on Tyrell's bare chest and running his hand over his skin. A light pink blush spreads out in its wake. The slowing thump of Tyrell's heart and the color of his eyes when Mr. Robot looks up to see him staring. The sound of his voice and the smell of his cologne, faint under the length of their day together and what had diluted in his sweat. The funny way his light brown hair sticks up in places from when Mr. Robot's hands had been twisted in it while Tyrell pulled an orgasm from him. It still leaves him in this pleasant haze where he can comfortably believe he's who Tyrell sees, because it's never Elliot's face he sees when he catches a glimpse of his reflection. Tyrell touching his face and kissing him and whispering against his lips. Being thankful that he doesn't end what he says with a name._

_He whispers softly too. He whispers again at Tyrell's ear and again into the curve of his neck and hears Tyrell respond with a pained laugh and a sharp sniff. He gently wipes away Tyrell's tears with his thumbs before kissing him again._

It's unfair that the words can fall so easily from him in the moment and then hurt so badly when he thinks back on saying them. This is supposed to be beautiful or some bullshit like that. It's supposed to make him feel like he's real; like he's evolved beyond what his creator could've ever imagined, but all he feels is the bitter ache in his chest at everything that's unfair about this. Elliot must feel the same memories and ache too because his eyes unfocus and one of his hands, wet again with more blood, rises to press against his chest. The harsh thump of his heart sends more blood streaming out into his clothes.

"Think I'm gonna be sick," Elliot mutters.

"I'm not in love with him," Mr. Robot says.

Elliot croaks out a laugh and says, "We're dying. No reason to lie now. Do you want to be with him?"

"We're not going to die."

Elliot lies back into the skeeball alley and coughs twice, bringing up a gush of blood that trickles from the corner of his mouth and down his cheek. Mr. Robot feels his own mouth fill with blood and he coughs it out onto the floor in front of him as the lights over the other skeeball lanes start to shiver and fade and in that dim light the splatter of his blood on the floor looks black. He leans back into his own lane and turns to his side to watch Elliot, still sputtering blood. 

"You're in love with him, but you can't be with him," Elliot rasps. His teeth are stained red.

"We won't die," Mr. Robot says. 

"Even if we live," Elliot says, "you can't be with him." 

He can hear the sound of someone crying and the warmth of someone's arms around him. Elliot is still staring just before the last neon light over his skeeball lane extinguishes and they're left in darkness so black that Mr. Robot raises a hand in front of his face, waves it and his eyes pick up nothing but more black. He drops his hand down to his stomach when a sharp stab of pain lances through his nerves.

"You don't know that for sure," Mr. Robot says.

Elliot doesn't answer.


End file.
